Matthew Diaries
by Yuki no Tenchi
Summary: Matthew has always been alone and now he writes down his emotions on paper. His tells of his early years with Alfred, Arthur, and Francis and how he feels about pratically being invisible. He also writes of his crush on his twin nation. After losing his notebook, everyone learns of Canada Matthew. Warning: real names used. Rated M for language, drama, and slight sexuality/yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

_**It's Korea BABY! Time for a Matthew story, yes? **_

_**This is Canada's diary on his loneliness and his feelings and reflections of his life. Warning first entry and story involve internal drama, thoughts and attempted plans of suicide, and angst.**_

_**Please review and all that! Enjoy XD!**_

_Entry #1_

_As it is I attended another World Meeting and as it would seem...no one noticed me. As usual I just floated around like the ghost I am and gave eveyone goosebumps. Then Russia sat on me again (truth be told I think he's doing it on purpose just cause he knows no one cares) and no matter how much I screamed (with the whisper of a voice that I have) I was ignored. _

_Will my life always be so empty? The only companion (if you can call him a partner) is this little bastuard of a bear Kuragu...or was...it..._

_Never mind! I can never remember his name, but on the same note he can never remember mine. He's always asking me "Who are you?" or he just blankly stares at me. And it's very sad to say, but when I look in his eyes, I can tell that he truely questions who I am. Am I really that invisiable?_

_I've thought of suicide everytime...scratch that all the time. People would probably think me pathetic...that's if there was a person in the world who would even bring my face or even my name to mind. Even thought I bring the knife to my wrist...I can never cut. Even though there is a gun in my hand I can never pull the trigger. In the end, I'm just a coward! I'm just a man...no...a naive boy who can't put my words into actions._

_People have others in the world to think about when it comes to death. There is always hell to pay for the loved ones left behind. Everyone has someone that will miss them when they are gone...except me. I could be raped and no one will listen, I could be murder and no one would investigate, or I could kill myself and no one would remember me. Everyone feels regret when a friend or family member commits the sinful act of suicide. Those who are always left cry whole-heartedly and say, "I should of told you I loved you more" or "I never told you how proud I was!"...those people are the lucky ones. Having many people around them to support them and hold them, as for me, there is no such luxury. I have all the right to die. There is no one around to watch me grow and praise me for all I've done (not that I've done much or have been noticed of anything for such things). People don't know that I exist. They don't know my name, my country alis, my favorite things, etc. I have nothing to be happy for._

_I'm constantly emotionally abused by all that I have opened my heart to. Alfred (the representive of America), my twin, has the same face as me...so people see me as him and I get involved in half the shit that people despise him for, whether it be war, politics, or just being an insensitive asshole. I always get beaten up by Cuba and Iggy (Britain), my own father-like-figure, yells at me and punishes me on every little thing my brother did because he doesn't know that Alfred has a twin. I think it's alittle pathetic, but what right do I have to have to down-grade someone else when I truely don't have a life of my own. I'm simply my brothers shadow. _

_Next is Iggy. He's technically my step father who had one dominance over me when I was only an infant. He fought Francise (France) over the continent I represented, Canada. Of course, as fate would have it, my genetic father lost and I was handed over to the British Empire. There was no farwells just "I win Frog! Now hand over the land I earned!" and of course anyone in this situation would think that Iggy was a dickhead and there could be more said on how he treated me over the years. After he won the war, he pratically let me do whatever I wanted. I thought it to be cool at first but in the end I found it to be a mistake on my part. After allowing me to run free, he never looked at me again except to lecture me on the mistakes Alfred made. Of course he mistakened me then too. Then Sealand came around, and even though Iggy and the world didn't ecknowledge him as a country, Iggy loved him unconditionally. Even though now-a-days he pushes the small sailor boy away, you can still see the love and worry behind his cruel words. But for me, I was never hugged or kissed like my twin and my brother (whose true name I never learned). Not one glance or "I love you" left his lips._

_And last but not least, my father Francis, who lost me to Iggy in a war in my early years. He loved me for who I was and said that I would grow to be a strong and lovely country that people would flock to year-round. Who would have thought that his fortune and enthusiasm on my life would be a complete opposite of what he and I hoped of? I know that he didn't want to give me up, but he had to due to his agreement with Iggy before their war. Francis cried the night he lost and he held me tight stating that he was sorry for what sin he had commited. Of course, me being a naive child I didn't know what he meant, but I hugged him back and cried with him. "Tomorrow, I will no longer be with you, you will have a new father and you get to meet your twin." he choked between sobs. This news just made me clutch him tighter. I wanted to hold on to what was left of the strong country before his heart split in half under the torment. "You will need your sleep for when you leave tomorrow, so please try to rest." _

_"I no want to sleep" I screamed in his chest as I wailed like a newborn. "I want to stay up with you!" But as fate's cruel hand would have it, I fell asleep in his arms and the next time I awoke, there was a blonde boy with the same face mine and he said, "Welcome to your new home, and from now on, you are my new toy!"_

_...And that was my hell of a life. Everyday is lonely and I cry my heart out only to faint. Sometimes...I wish that I could never wake up, that every dream I have was reality. I wish that the people I love would ecknowledge me as a friend and that my crush would love me back, and as wrong as it may be, my crush is my own twin. As much as I hated him for the games we played and the way he scared me, he would make me laugh and cry, he would play with me and hurt me, but he had some interaction with me. And that was what made me feel special...but now...he barely ever looks my way. _

_When I attend the World Meetings, I was always ignored and no one would ask my opinion so I never attend the gatherings much anymore, but when I do...I practically sit in my emo corner and distract myself with my own sobs. I don't understand why I'd go to a place that makes me so sad, but I guess you could say that I'm a hopeless fool that still believes that I have a chance for human interaction._

_Well that's enough bitching on my part...I best just go to bed and get so rest for the meeting tomorrow...not that my presence matters._

_Night_

_Canada Matthew ;_;_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_**If any of u would like this story to continue then please be one of the 3-4 reviews for this story. I will not continue with this story if that is not done! So please R&R!**_

_**Hope u enjoyed! Korea out!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Alright everyone...how are u doin'? da-ze~!**_

_**Ok, time for another ch of the Matthew Diaries!XD As usual please R&R and all that.**_

_**Enjoy~! da-ze~!**_

The time: 1:05pm, three hours since the World Meeting began and as usual...Canada Matthew was an eyesore.

_Beginning of Entry #2_

_Gothic like emotions, everything is black. The greyish colors blend on a black and white canvic almost like a manga strip. But instead of images of beauty and bliss that fill many hearts, it feels like dull pain that continues to stab me in the chest. Watching everyone is like watching a movie. Or better yet, it's like a novel, and I'm the third person view. I'm the anonymous writer who tells the lives of others, but in the end, I'm never truely important. Truth is, what is so important about me? What was I born for? Hell, I'd be happy just being someones slave. So..._

Matthew looked up from his red notebook to see everything around him. Iggy and Francis were at each others throats again, which lead Canada to wonder how in hell they were ever lovers? Alfred was running around trying to get other countries to sniff his pits as he claimed how he was such a hero that he smelled like one! Antonio (Spain) was getting chumy with Lovino (Romano/South Italy) as usual. Ludwig (Germany) was rubbing his temples and began banging his head against the table after his failed attempt at trying to shut everyone up by yelling. Feliciano (Italy) jumped around the table giving out white flags or talking about pasta like the silly little redhead normally did. Everyone else just chatted with each other or were minding their own business.

Occationally, Gilbert (Prussia) would look over and eye the canadian, but Matthew thought that it was just the pervert in him. But the thought of the ancient German looking at him, _Seeing _him, made the curly blonde happy.

Matthew returned to his 3 subject notebook and continued the sentence he halted.

_...what is there for me? And, if that question is answered, what is gonna happen? And what am I supposed to do?_

After he finished, he hooked his pencil on the inside of the spirals and closed his notebook, allowing the shimmering maple leaf to take in the light that came from the multiple windows. "I should probably head home," Matthew stated to himself as he stood from his friendly, loving emo corner. He slowly, almost gliding, walked to the main double doors. The blonde couldn't wait to leave this place.

He stood stiff after hitting the maple wood door into the hallway wall only to stare eye to eye with a furious Carlos (Cuba).

_Oh son of a bitch! _Matthew thought to himself as he realized what was to come.

Carlos stomped over to the Canadian and literally towered over the blonde, devouring his shadow.

"Hey, you must think you're sooo cool walking on my terf, huh, America?"

_Dammit bro! What did you do this time? _"Sigh, how many times do I have to tell you? I..."

"I'm telling you right now, you better watch your step!" the burnette warned. All Matthew thought was that he didn't have time for this moron.

"I'll keep that in mind," the blonde spoke, walking around the man only to get his shoulder gripped by the Cuban's strong hand.

"And where the hell do you think you're going? I ain't through with you yet!"

"Let go of me!" Matthew wined as he slapped the hand away and turned to stare down the muscular man.

Carlos then redirected his death grip to the Canadian's collar and lifted the boy, at least, two feet off the ground.

"Oh, you think you're mister tough guy huh?" Cuba pratically sneered. "You are the scum of the earth, you know? Always goin' around and saying you're a hero when truth be told you're the one using others for your own gain! You..."

"Shut UP!" Matthew screamed at the top of his lungs spooking both Carlos and the countries leaving the meeting room; Ivan (Russia), Ludwig, Feliciano, and Peter (Sealand).

"What the..." the Cuban asked loosening his grip and giving Matthew a chance to push away. Matthew then gave everyone a clear view of his face as tears steadily rained down his pink tinted cheeks.

"Canada..." Ivan slowly began.

Carlos turned his back to the Canadian and stared at the platnium blonde man confused. "Canada?"

Matthew turned and began to walk away.

"Matthew...I didn't..." Cuba tried apoligizing.

"I know...none of you knew. You all either ignore me or think I'm America." He turned and gave a weary smile. "So don't talk to me or say my name like we're all good friends, because we arn't."

And with that, the dirty blonde boy sprinted away, leaving glinting tears to make his trail. But the one thing the poor Canadian never expected was that his notebook was going to fall out of the bag he was carrying, only for it to end up in the hallway for all to see his inner thoughts...

TO BE CONTINUED...MAYBE

_**I hope you all enjoyed! Well you know the drill at least 3-4 reviews in order to continue. Thanks for the support! da-ze~!**_

_**Korea out!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Alright thank u all for supporting me this far. I didn't think it would actually be that good...so thank u all for ur reviews and please keep it up.**_

_**Alright time for a quick check-up on our little Canada Matthews shall we? Matthew was pratically attacked by Carlos, the representitive of Cuba, because he was mistaking our little blonde for his older twin Alfred. Upon fleeding, Canada dropped his notebook with which he wrote his precise thoughts! What is in store for Matthew and what memories of the past will he reminise of?**_

_**Read to find out, hope u enjoy and please R&R! XD Thanks again ppl!**_

Matthew ran up the stairs to his bedroom door, slamming it. He then threw his bag on the floor before jumping under the blankets on his bed and hiding his face in his pillow. "I'm never goin' back there again, NEVER!" he screamed his lungs dry, before grabbing a notepad off of his bedside table and throwing it across the room. It hit the wall with great might, it's seams were torn and papers flew from the covers and scattered all along the floor. "Those insensitive assholes!"

Matthew felt water run down his cheeks and he quickly started wiping his eyes in panick. "No, don't cry...you just stopped a minute ago. *sniffle* You are stronger than this. *hick* You're stronger than this!" Canada slowly brought his hand to his mouth hoping to silence the sobs that fell from his lips. Sadly, it only caused him to cry more. "You're strong, you're a loner, you've been independent all this time with no help! No one can survive that way! You're stronger than most. People need friends and family to support them, but not you! You're special right? So what are you crying for you piece of shit!" he cried aloud, tears streaming down his face like a waterfall, allowing his sadness to shake his small frame.

The blonde boy hugged himself as he fell to the bed shivering at the coldness that enveloped him. His body violently shaking him.

"You're a strong country, so why...why are...*hick*." Matthew questioned himself as he buried his face in his pillow once more, crying painfully as sleep slowly took her hold on the blonde, giving him some well deserved peace.

!~!~!~!~!~!~!~

"So bro-ha, what chu got there?" Alfred asked annoyingly. "Can I see, can I see? Can I can I can I can I can I can I..."

"Yes goddammit! Yes! Just shut up already, I was going to give it to you anyway." Carlos spoke rubbing his ear where the American practially shattered his eardrum. He held out a notebook with a glittery red maple leaf printed on the front. "It belongs to your twin."

"Ya, I figured that much dumbass," Alfred smirk. He then snatched the notebook from the tan nation and skimmed it's pages. "Only two entries, that's lame-ass! I have way more than this!"

"It's new you moron, just look at the dates," the Cuban spoke, pointing to the left hand corner of the page America had his eyes plastered to. "Anyway, you should read it, I think you brothers in pain."

"Dude, what would give you that idea?" the blonde asked, as stupid as he was.

"Just read the notes, and if you have a heart, you will understand the words written in it...Lord knows I do. I regret alot of things now Alfred, and I think once you read...you will too." the Cuban turned to leave before turning his head and whispering, "You have no idea what Canada thinks, twins or not. He hides alot of things and I think there is more than what is just in that notebook. I'm supposed to be his friend, but I screwed that much up...just don't end up like me. You're the only family he has left. Be there for him." And with that, Carlos strided down the dim lit hall that stretch from the exit of the meeting room.

Alfred stood stunned at Carlos's words. He never would have thought the burnette to be so emotional. However..."Fuh, what does he know of my baby brother that I don't? Idiot doesn't know what he's spouting." But even saying this was not enough to convince himself. Was there really more to Matthew's personality than even he could know? Was his little Canadian in pain?

This only encouraged the American to read his brother's heart, to find out what the hell was going on.

Alfred, with his brother's concern in mind, turned the plastic cover of the notebook and began eyeing the first page in view...

_Entry #1_

_As it is I attended another World Meeting and as it would seem...no one noticed me._

!~!~!~!~!~!~

_"Papa...Papa!" Matthew hollered, chasing Francis through the fields of flowers as fast as his little legs could. "Papa *huff* wait up!"_

_Francis turned to look at the petite blonde that had fallen at his feet. "Oui, Mattheiu, you 'ave to be careful, love." The man bent down with a pure white smile to his precise son. His hair was practically gold in the sunshine and his eyes were a beautiful ocean that made the boy feel like swimming in them. _

_Matthew felt heat in his cheeks, but did his best at putting one important sentence together. "Papa...um...I uh love you."_

_Francis looked at the boy in shock, but only at how cute the blonde child was. He gathered the violet eyed nation in his arms and he kissed the boy's cheeks before whispering, "Oui, and I love you." _

_Matthew blushed more, causing his father to chuckle lightly. Matthew put his hands up through his blue jacket that his father had bought him for his birthday and pulled out a crown made of daisies and literally shoved it in Francis' face. "H-herwe," the Canadian stuttered as he looked to his Papa's chest, trying to evade eye contact. However his effort was for not. Francis wrapped his fingers under his son's chin and tilted his head, forcing the Canadian to look him eye-to-eye._

_"Mattheiu, is this for me?" Fancis spoke gently. Matthew couldn't speak, so all he did was nod as Fancis put him back on his feet and accepted the crown the blonde child pushed to him. "Did you make this yourself, mon cher? It's beautiful, well done! You have an artist in you, son." _

_"Reawly, you mean it?" Matthew screamed in delight._

_"Oh, but of course! It's fit for royalty! I'm just glad that you thought of this fithy peasent as worthy of such a gift," the Frenchman spoke enthusiastically as he placed the fragile crown upon his head as if it were made of glass. _

_"But Papa, you much pwettier than a pwince or pwincess! You like a King! And besides," Matthew paused as he gained control of his blush and his courage, "I want to make you happy..."_

_Francis swept down like a hawk and gathered Matthew in his arms, twirling around. "I already love you sooo much! Just having you around has made me the happiest man on earth!"_

_"Reawly?"_

_The Frenchman haulted his movements in order to kiss the boy's delicate nose, "Now why would I lie to you, love. You are such a good boy, you would make any parent happy."_

_Matthew stared at his father in confusion, "But I onwy want to make you happy..."_

_"Honhonhonhon! It's just an expression. I'm telling you that many people would be jealous of me for having such a perfect boy."_

_"I...I...uh," Matthew was lost for words. He didn't know what to say to something like that!_

_"Mattheiu, look, there," the Frechman spoke cheerfully as he pointed toward the sunset, "Isn't it gorgeous?"_

_The suns rays that visiably_ _reached across the sky were the tint of a ruby, its fingers were golden with orange tips, and multiple pink to purple layers painted the sky with a perfect blend and texture. It was the ultimate masterpiece with Mother Nature as the eternal artist._

_"Sooo pretty..." Matthew gasped, cletching the Frenchman's shoulders. His eyes glittered with excitement and curiousity like any child experiences. Francis couldn't help but smile at the blonde's expressions. Matthew looked to blue pools and bent over to whisper in the mans ear. "I love you Papa. I don't want this to ever end!"_

_Francis cletched the boy close to his chest and whispered back, "I wish too, mon cher, but nothing lasts forever...and that is the sad truth..."_

Matthew moaned deeply as he rolled on his side finding himself face-to-face with the door to his bedroom. He brought himself on his elbows as he sat up and took in a deep breath, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. "So...as usual, it was a dream..." he cried softly. If only he stayed in that dream.

The sound of the floorboards creaking caused the blonde to jump, his hair standing on end from his sudden shock. The creaks came closer from the other side of the door as Matthew coward under his covers. After what felt like a century of torment, the sound of footsteps stopped outside of the bedroom and the door squeaked lightly as it slowly opened revealing a small munchkin like shadow. And, of course, the petite shadow from the hallway was none other than Mr. Kumajiro.

Matthew sighed in relief. "Mr. Kragi, don't scare me like that please!"

Mr. Kumajiro looked up at his master and spoke more nasal-like than he usually did, "Who are you?"

"We've been through this before and I'm getting really tired of repeating it," Matthew stated bluntly. The blonde polar bear just tilted his head as a little innocent gester. Realizing that he wasn't going to win this battle, as usual, he repeated his name over and over hoping that the bear would at least know the name of his country. "It's Canada...my name is Canada."

Kumajiro just rubbed his eyes not really paying attention, leave the Canadian to end his little lesson for later. He studied the bear, seeing his eyes were puffy and he was having quite an extreme case of bedhead. "Kuro, did you just wake up from a nap?" the blonde boy asked, getting his answer in the form of a growl that had erupted from the fluffball. Talk about releasing the lions to feed. He always had a huge appetite when he woke from a catnap.

"I'm hungery, feed me!" Kumajiro was practically screaming in demand. Matthew's headache increased to the point that all he heard was a buzzing noise, almost like a bee in his brain.

"Alright, alright, please just shut up! Go downstairs and wait in the kitchen. Well have a late night breakfast."

Mr. Kumajiro practically had the gleam of a child in a candy store. He ran out the door, Godspeed, yelling out gleefully, "Please hurry before I starve!"

"Alright, just give me a second!" The blonde walked over to his closet to get more comfortable clothes to laze around in. He dug through the bottom finding a pair of fresh boxers and a baggy t-shirt. _Man, I really need to clean this place up. _Matthew thought as he fingered around the clothes at his feet hoping to find his beaver slippers. But instead, he found what he least expected. He found a tiny baby blue jacket that he used to wear as a child. Before he realized it, the dream he had was now flooding his head forcing him on the verge of tears once more. _Papa._

Canada hugged the jacket to his chest as he croutch over and to his knees feeling winded of breath. Salt water flooded his eyes once more and he regained his breath. _Why Papa? Why did you say that? Why did you say that nothing lasts forever? I didn't want it to end? Why?_

_I just wanted a happy ending..._

**_Ok, there is ch 3! Hope u like! Okay I'm gonna get a little picky...6 reviews and I will continue this story kool?_**

**_Ok, thank u all very much for support!_**

**_Korea out da-ze~!_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Well everyone it's time for another Matthew diaries update. After seeing how well this series is doing, I'm excited that I posted this up.**_

_**Summary of the Last Ch: 1) Matthew ran home crying. 2) Carlos gave Matthew's notebook to Alfred and said blonde began reading the first entry. 3) Canada had of a memory of his childhood with his father, France. 4) Kumajirou was comic relief! XD 5) Matthew found his old blue jacket from his dream and sobbed over his father's words.**_

_**Does this about sum it up? Holy Hell I hope so!**_

_**Alright enough of that (if anyone is even reading), here's ch 4! BETA READ BY SARAQUITA~!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

It was a heartbreaking experience, knowing that you may be the cause for someone's suffering, especially when it was someone connected to you personally, like a twin. It took what felt like forever for Alfred to understand his brother's words...his twins crush. It hurt, not knowing what to do or what went wrong.

Alfred had done many bad things to his baby brother, like push him into dares he didn't want to do, causing invisible scars on the Canadian. But even with all that had happened to him, Matthew was smiling...a real smile...not the crap that he usually tries now.

The American wanted to cry at every degrading thing Matthew said about himself from 'a piece of shit' to 'a coward' to even questioning his life. Alfred understood that people were curious about what they were meant to do in life, though he didn't believe in all that "It's your destiny, you can't defy it" crap. You do what you want to do and that's it. But this writing was desperate, like Canada has waited all his life for an answer and wanted it now. He acted as if he were an old man on his deathbed wanting someone, anyone, to know of his life story. It just made Alfred's heart clench.

It was late afternoon as the meeting room grew quieter, emptier. Countries left in groups of two to four. Antonio hung around Lovino like a fly even after getting a black-eye by the brunette. Kiku and Herucles (Greece) were playing with a pussycat that had wondered into the conference before it actually began. And now America, picking up the notebook like a fresh feather, was walking to the door, not even realizing that a dirty-blonde British-man was shadowing him. His steps were quiet as he stalked around, trying to figure out what had changed in his sons mood.

_What is it with him? First he's as happy as ever, and now he's down in the dumps, over what?_

Arthur listened closely as something paper-like fluttered and the sound of Alfred's huffs and sighs filled his ears. _A book?_ When the blonde men turned a corner, Arthur aimed his view to the American's hands, only to see a notebook with a red shimmering maple leaf on it.

_Oh, it's just a notebook, but it doesn't look like it's his. Great, who did he steal from this time? It can't be Germany's, it's a little too...gay...flambuént for him.(?) Maybe Italy's? But what's interesting about him? He would just write PASTA~! across the page and be done. Or write about what he and Germany did the other night...*blush*? Ok, maybe that would be interesting to read about, but I didn't think that Alfred was into that..._

Said American halted in front of him, causing the Brit to plow into him. Alfred turned to stare at the shorter man, still finding it hard to believe that at one time he himself was smaller than his father. Britain looked to his sons eyes and couldn't believe what he'd seen before Alfred turned away. He'd seen sadness and confusion. Alfred continued forward, ignoring the Brit even when the said Brit was tailing him all the way back to their house.

"Oh, come on America! There isn't anything you can't talk to your dad about. Please Alfred, I'm really worried about you." Britain's voice began to grow to a whisper as the American formed tears that rolled down his cheeks. He turned to the Brit.

"It's something you wouldn't understand."

Alfred burst through the front door of their shared house and tripped up the stairs, accidentally dropping the notebook. He ran into their bedroom and locked the door a few seconds before Arthur grasped the doorknob.

"Dammit Alfred, open this door! What's wrong?"

"Just leave me be for a while Arthur, I'll tell you someday but not tonight."

Arthur froze. _Arthur...he doesn't call me Arthur...he calls me 'old man' or 'Iggy'._ Ok, something was seriously wrong. But the Brit realized that without super monster strength like his son, he wouldn't be able to get to him.

"Alright, in fact, have the room tonight. I've been needing to catch up on some shows on the DVR anyway."

Arthur soon heard silence, and assumed the American was down talking.

The British man stepped away from the door and went over to the closet near the bathroom and grabbed a spare blanket and pillow for the couch. He began walking down the stairs and started thinking out loud, "Maybe I should feed him some hamburgers for dinner to get him to spill." He looked next to him, "What do you think Tink?"

The little imaginated fairy gave the Brit a huge smile, "That's a great idea Mr. Kirkland. Your a genius!" she spoke with excitment.

"Well thanks Tink, it means a lot coming from you. And I don't like to brag, but I defintally know - WAHHH-"

Arthur lost his footing on the seventh-to-last step and rode on his ass down the rest of the stairs. He stood and rubbed his posterior, forgetting completely about Tinkerbell. "The bloody hell?" He turned and looked up the stairs to see the notebook with the shimmery red maple leaf lying open face.

~!~!~!~!~!

"Owner, I'm hungry," the little imp known as Mr. Kumajiro cried, tugging off the Canadians blankets.

"Dammit Kuragy, we just ate pancakes you stupid glutton, now go to bed. I want to get to sleep."

Kumajiro didn't budge even after Canada had turned to dismiss him. Kumajiro slid down the door and covered his face with his paws. Canada turned slightly to hear hiccups and gasps. He soon realized the little gold polar bear was crying. _Awe shit!_

Kumajiro shot his head back and gave a scream, "WHY ARE YOU SOOO MEAN TO ME!?"

Canada jumped out of his skin, but soon regained himself and ran to the bear. The polar bear flinched, scared that the Canadian was going to hit him.

Matthew stared at the bear and began to remember a time like this. No, multiple times like this. He remembered how he used to say he was hungry as an excuse to get Francis' attention. But he was never hungry, he was just shy to ask if he could sleep with the man those nights.

Matthew sat on his knees and stretched his arms out. "Come here, fluff ball."

Kumajiro hestitantly leaned into his masters touch, and began to cry a little harder.

"Would you like to sleep in my bed with me tonight."

"Why would I want to do that, stupid owner?" The Canadian chuckled at the bears words. He used to deny it when Francis asked the same question, however Canada just didn't answer as rudely.

Cuddling Kumajiro, Matthew walked over to the bed and lay down with the bear. He pulled Kumajiro into a crushing hug and kissed the bear's eyes, wiping the tears away.

"Eww, stop that...that's nasty," Kumajiro huffed, slightly drousy.

"Just go to sleep, silly bear."

With that, Kumajiro was out like a light. _Well, it was about damn time. I thought he would never shut up!_ Canada sighed.

Matthew looked down at the sleeping face that pressed against his collar bone, feeling a bit like...a mother. He let a smile spread across his face, his eyes beginning to blur.

Little strands of water fell silently from his lashes as he pressed a kiss to the bears nose.

"I love you Kumajiro. Good night."

_**Hey ppls.**_

_**I'm so sorry that it took forever to write and load this. So as an apology, I wrote another one-shot story called America's Lunchbox. If anyone ever heard the commentary with Eric Vale and Jerry Jewel talking about cocaine burgers...then this story is for u!**_

_**I promise to try to update regularly. And thank u all for waiting!**_

_**C:**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Hello everyone~! I hope everyone had a great holiday and New Year.**_

_**Well it's time for another Matthew Diaries story...I hope everyone is excited and ready.**_

_**Please enjoy ch 5**_

_**P.S. - The "America's Lunch Box" story mentioned at the end of the last chapter will be loaded up soon, so please look forward to it. I apoligize that I haven't loaded stories lately.**_

_**I hope you all can for give me~!**_

_**Enjoy~!**_

It was now 2 pm on a Saturday afternoon, and Alfred, who returned home with a broken spirit, hadn't left the bedroom that he and Arthur shared. It had been at least 28 hours since returning home from the World Meeting, and the American hadn't complained about eating like he usually would. No matter how upset he was, he would stuff his face in depression. Arthur had begun to worry. He would leave food outside the bedroom door and would sit around the corner to watch. The door would creak open slightly, but Alfred would quickly slam it closed. He even repeated the process with his own beloved McDonalds, greasy foods, and deserts.

Arthur was starting to panic over his son's eating habits. Alfred had gone on a food strike before many times when he was younger, but he would give up within two hours and would beg for Arthur to make something. This was different.

The Brit walked up to the door for the thirteenth time that day to try and reason with his son, but with no response, he sighed and removed the tray from the doorway. "I'm just going to say this one more time Alfred, you can talk to your father about anything. I won't yell and I won't argue. I'll listen so that you can get everything off of your chest. And don't forget," he started to whisper through the crack in the door, "that you can tell me whenever your hungry and I'll be happy to make you anything."

Arthur turned to leave and took the first step before the door creaked.

"D...Dad."

Arthur turned to look into the blondes blood-shot eyes. He smiled warmly, walking toward the American. "Yes, son? Would you like to talk now?"

Alfred turned his head as if in shame, and rubbed his arms as he felt a chill. He was silent for a moment before whispering in a desperate tone, "No...at least not yet...I don't know what I want to say...so please..."

Arthur couldn't help but stare at the male, remembering when said blonde was a little boy. His smile widened at the memories of Alfred crying as he tried to put an apology together for the Brit. Britain sighed, laying the tray to the right of him before confronting the man. "Alfred"

Alfred refused to look at Arthur. The Brit lift his son's chin forcing the American to look him in the eye. And without warning, the Brit pressed a quick, light kiss to Alfred's lips. "It can't be that bad now can it?"

Alfred was trying to push Arthur away as he frantically wiped his mouth. "Gross Old Man, I told you I'm too old for you to pull that shit anymore!"

Arthur gripped Alfred's arm and pulled him into a bone crushing hug. Alfred gasped in surprise. "Too old, my ass! No matter what, you will still be my little baby boy." Alfred blushed. Arthur loosened his grip and pulled away. "I'll leave you be a little longer, but please eat. Don't give me a heart attack at this age."

Alfred nodded, "Alright, I understand." Said American bent down to pick up the food, when all of a sudden, his face began to light up like a fireworks show. "McDonalds!? Awe, hell ya!"

"Your welcome." Arthur said patting Alfred's head.

"Thanks, Iggy." He ran into the bedroom and locked the door.

"Hey, wait a damn bloody minute! I didn't say you could eat in our room!"

"Well, there is a bed in here so believe me, I'm gonna fuck up this McDouble!" Afred howeled like an idiot.

Arthur couldn't help but laugh to himself as he pounded on the door. _That's my boy! _"Hey Alfred, I'm being serious come out here and eat!"

~!~!~!~!~!

The day was dragging out, leaving poor Matthew with nothing to do and too depressed to do anything. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had rested within his bones. All he had done today was the typical chores and trying to distract the bear, Kumajiro. But at the same time, Matthew couldn't help but feel that he had lost something. Something very important to him.

Matthew sat on the couch as Kumjiro watched a cooking show. Every once in a while, the polar bear would yell, "Dumbass dudin't know how to make anything. To give something flavor, you need to add MAPLE SYRUP!" Matthew chuckled lightly, but the mood didn't last for long. He sighed as he drank his hot chocolate, blowing away it's heat ever so slightly.

"Hey bear, you hungry yet?" Matthew asked.

Kumajiro turned and looked at the Canadian, eye's filled with tense, before finally answering, "Who are you?"

Matthew ducked his head and sighed. _And here I thought we starting a beautiful relation... _"It's Canadia."

"Hummm, never heard of ya, _what_ are you now?"

"If the big guy that runs the country you live in."

"I thought that was Alfred."

Matthew's head began spinning. _Great, more crap on what my brother does!_ "Anyway Kuragi, is there anything you want to eat?"

"Hummm, how bout later, I want to finish what I'm watching."

"Alright, well I'll be in my room. Call if you need anything."

"Whatever..."

Matthew went up the stairs to his room. Before opening his bedroom door, he couldn't help but look back at the bear as he now watched Power Rangers and was making kaorate poses. Matthew chuckled, "Silly little imp!"

~!~!~!~!~!

Arthur was sitting on the couch continplating on the events of the day. He thought of Alfred's behavior after reading that stupid notebook he dropped on the stairs. After reading the pages, Arthur had noticed that not only his son but Francis and his nickname, Iggy, were also listed down. He couldn't understand the containt of the book. It talked of a twin child. Alfred's twin to be exact. But Arthur couldn't recall a third child. He only remembered Alfred and Sealand.

Grunting in frustration, Arthur slapped the notebook on the coffee table. _What the bloody hell is the connection? _The Brit looked over the cover again, printing ever detail in his head once more. _That shimmer maple leaf...it still seems a little girly for me. Could I have had a daughter...? But if I did, why can't I remember? Wouldn't Francis have reminded me before the divorce?_ Arthur, realising what he had thought, shook his head furiously. _And why am I thinking of the Frog!? He has nothing to do with this...then again, his name is in that notebook...but..._

Arthur sighed deeply, knowing full well that he may not be able to figure out this mystery alone. And lord knows that Alfred wasn't really giving any tips. As much as it hurt him to talk to his once known beloved, he had to know what was going on. The Frog may be the only one to help.

Arthur walked toward the kitchen, grasping for the cordless phone and freezing before dialing. _What's the matter old chap, you talk to him all the time, so this is no different right? Remember you are doing this for your son._

_You are doing this for Alfred._

~!~!~!~!~!

Matthew couldn't understand what was eating at him, but the feeling was getting worse. He laid his head on his computer desk as a rythum of pain began to pound at his temples. _Please let this day end soon!_ _I'm so tired, but I can't sleep! That stupid bear might break down my door screaming about how hunger he is or that he wants to go somewhere._ All of a sudden, something came to view in Matthew's mind. _My notebook! I could write in that a little bit. Maybe it will help me sort out these weird mood-swings._

Matthew stood rigid, walking over to his backpack he had crumbled on the floor the day before. He bent down reaching in, pulling out every item inside. But, where was the notebook?

"I didn't pull it out when I got home, it should still be here, where did it go?" Matthew paniced as he fled down the stairs looking around for it. Asking the bear was no help, since he didn't even know who the hell Matthew was. After removing every cushion in the house, after searching ever closet, after stripping every room down bare, it was nowhere to be found.

_Why...why is this happening now?_

~!~!~!~!~!

The kitchen was silent, the only sounds being heard was that of the phones ring and Arthur's moaning of displeasure. _This better lead me to something good or so help me..._

The rings stopped, giving only one noise, pure static. Was the phone disconnected? Was the number disconnected? Did Francis change the number so that Arthur couldn't call it? What?

"ello, 'ho is dis?"

"Frog, I..." Arthur stuttered.

"ell, 'ell, if it isn't my ex-husband. 'hat's the matter, you miss me _holding _you at night, love?"

"Shut the hell up you basturd! I want to talk to you about Alfred's behavior!"

Francis' voice disappeared on the other side of the line, making the Brit believe the French man had hung up. "Francis...?"

"Yes, yes! I'll still here. 'ell!"

_What the hell crawled up his ass and died?! _"Do...do you...remember Alfred's mood when I chased him after the World Meeting?"

"Yes, he looked like a beaten pup, 'hat of it?"

Arthur gulped, "He...he found a notebook and read it's contant. He was crying and locked himself in our bedroom, he wouldn't eat or say anything. I got him to eat a little this afternoon, but..."

"He still 'on't talk right? Do you ant me to try to come over and talk to him?"

Arthur shook his head to an invisible Francis. "I told him he could take his time telling me."

"Did you at least read the notebook to get an idea on 'hat is making him upset?"

"Yes, and that's kinda wanted to ask you about? Francis, did...did we ever have a daughter?"

"THe HeLL?!"

Arthur chucked lightly, "I guess that's a no," he stated.

"Arthur, love, are you alright? Maybe I should come over and check your fever," Francis chuckled back.

"You haven't called me that in a long time, you know?"

"I know, _love_," the French man joked.

"Ok, now you are just teasing me," Arthur sighed. This talk was just getting more and more difficult. "Anyway, Alfred isn't the only person mentioned in that notebook, it involves us too."

"hat?"

"That's why I was asking if we had a daughter, but I also wonder if there is another child we had together."

Francis was silent.

"Francis, I feel so horrible. I...I don't know what to do. I feel so ashamed of myself! I want to solve this so bad, not just for Alfred...but for the owner of the notebook too!" Arthur didn't realise until he hiccuped that he was crying. _Great, just give him more reasons to make fun of you!_

"Iggy, are you crying?" Arthur shattered at that moment, hearing his nickname falling from his lovers lips. "Iggy, I don't care how much you reject, I'm coming over. I will be there soon, love!"

Much to Arthur's surprise, he didn't fight back.

_**I hope u all enjoyed this chapter~!**_

_**I had a ball writing it for your entertainment~!**_

_**Everyone have a happy New Year~!**_

_**C":**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Hello everyone~! I am on a roll~~!**_

_**Summary so far - After getting into a fight with Carlos at the World Meeting, Matthew ran away in tears. He didn't realize until the day after that he had dropped his notebook, but where? Carlos discovers and gives to Alfred and warns the American of what pain the Canadian was feeling. After reading the notes, Alfred locks himself away, leaving his father, Arthur, to worry. Arthur reads the notebook and is lost about the talk of Alfred having a twin. In desperation, Arthur calls Francis, his ex-husband, for help, hoping that his ex can give him the answers. Arthur, feeling hopeless and lost, begins crying, leaving Francis to promise, "Iggy, I don't care how much you reject, I'm coming over. I will be there soon, love!"**_

_**Whew~! Did I cover all that~! **_

_**Hope so! Here's chapter 6, Enjoy~!**_

The house was silent except for Arthur's sobs. He couldn't stop his emotions from taking control. It hurt, not only the mystery of the notebook, but hearing his ex-husband just a while ago calling him Iggy. But why? What Francis says shouldn't bother him whether it be an insult or a complement. When the divorce was filed, Arthur thought that would be the end of it. So why did the Frog's words affect him so much?

Alfred began walking down the stairs, finally reappearing after hours of solitude. His boots gave light thumps on the carpet as he walked the distance of the hall. Wiping his eyes of tears, Arthur turned to greet his son with a smile. "Hello Alfred. It was about time. I missed you begging me to make food."

Alfred's eyes were dark from his lack of sleep. He rubbed the back of his head as he yawned. "Awe, shut up! I'm not that much of a pig am I?"

"Yes, you are," Arthur muttered in a sad tone. Hearing the change in his father's voice, Alfred went to take a chair and sit next to him.

He stared at Arthur, watching the blondes expressions closely. "Iggy?"

Again, Arthur eyes began to water, the tears slipping out one strand at a time. "Dad! What's wrong? Tell me, Iggy," Alfred begged, gripping the Brit's shoulder.

"It's nothing Alfred, just leave me be, ok?"

The American didn't do as told. He jumped from his seat, knocking the chair to the ground, and pushed himself toward the man, laying his head in the blonde's lap.

"A..Alfred, what..?!"

"I'm sorry," the American wailed, his voice muffled by the Brit's jeans.

"Now wait, what are you sorry about?" Arthur asked, running his fingertips through Alfred's greasy hair. "Why are you crying?"

Alfred lifted his head, his tears were flowing like rivers. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just needed to think on what to say. I wasn't trying to avoid you. I...I.." Alfred huffed and hiccupped.

"Alfred," Arthur whispered, pulling the younger into a hug, "you did worry me, yes, but it's not just that. I've just had a lot of things on my mind. It's nothing you need to worry about though, so please don't let it get to you." The British blonde pat Alfred's cheek, wiping his eyes dry. "Don't worry about it, alright darling?"

"Ok..."

"Good," Arthur put on the best smile he could in his state. "Alright, now get up. Your making my legs numb. If you're not careful, I might have to get them amputated."

"Seriously Iggy, this is no time for war jokes."

"I know, I know."

Their light chuckle was interrupted by the front door bursting open as heavy stomps head toward them. Alfred grabbed Arthur, shoving the man behind him. "You stay behind me, ok?"

"No, Alfred, it's alright! It's just..."

"_'Ello? 'Re you here Arthur?_" The stranger walked into the kitchen doorway, turning to look at the two cowering over the table. "_Ah, mon cher, there you are!_"

Alfred looked closely at the figure only to cover his mouth in surprise, "Papa?"

The French man smirked at the American, "_Si, _I see you two are bonding well."

Alfred looked to Arthur, his face pale and his eye's bugged. "D...Dad? Why is Papa here, I thought..."

"I'm sorry Alfred, but could you leave the house for a while. Go on a date, go to a friend's house, whatever."

"What why? You want me to leave you with this pervert?!"

"Alfred!" Arthur scolded, "I am allowed to fight and call him names, but you, his _son_, will give him respect!"

The look on Alfred's face was that of pure concern, Arthur was becoming someone else. "D...Dad..."

"Alright, Alright. 'Nough of all dis," Francis spoke aloud, walking toward the American. Francis tucked his hand into his back pocket, pulling out his leather wallet. "'Ow 'bout I give you some money that way you and a friend can do something, ok?"

Arthur laid his hands on Francis' shoulders in protest, "You don't have to do that. He can just spend time with a friend at a park or something."

"Oh, but I insist! Think of it as a 12 year-old late birthday gift."

"That's ok, I can just go to Gilbert's house," Alfred declined, waving his hands. Even so, Francis took the blondes hand and placed 100 dollars in his open palm.

"Just take it. It's not much, but it's to apologize for all the years I was never there for you."

Alfred felt tears pricking his eyes again, "Papa..."

"Now, I think you need to be going somewhere. And don't worry, I won't do anything to Daddy, I just want to talk."

Alfred felt nervous, but did as he was told. He said his good-byes before hesitantly closing the door, car keys in hand.

The kitchen was silent, the ex-lovers not saying a word until they heard the car's engine disappearing in the distance. Francis turned to Arthur, only causing the Brit's tears to form again. "Francis..."

"'Ow, what is making you so sad, love." He walked over to Arthur and swept up the man in a desperate hug, wishing he never had let go.

"F...Fr...ancis..." Arthur hiccupped, gripping to the French man's jacket tight enough to turn his knuckles white. The French man wanted to kiss the man badly, but he knew it wouldn't solve anything. It just might make things worse.

Francis ran his hands through golden strands, breathing in the Brit's scent, before whispering, "Let's get comfortable on the couch and then you can explain everything, Arthur."

~!~!~!~!~!

The evening was almost through, and still, Matthew couldn't find any trace of his notebook. He began to panic. After spending most of the day retracing his steps, he had started to give up hope. He didn't know what to do at this point. He could only think of one more place where his notebook could have fallen.

On the hallway floor of the World Meeting building.

But the building was closed off to everyone except for the big countries, with the biggest armies; in other words, America, Russia, and Germany: Alfred, Ivan, and Ludwig. However, how would he be able to ask them when he was a ghost to all? And he was never on good terms with any of them, like he was ever given a chance to. What was he going to do. All he could do was stand outside of the main doors and pray he would think of a plan. With his train of thought running, he never noticed the sound of heavy footsteps approaching him from behind.

"What are you doing here, _da_?"

Matthew spun around, hands bawled into fists like he was ready to attack. Standing behind him was one of the three nations he was actually thinking about; Big, Bad Ivan.

Matthew felt himself waver, knees knocking together, just by looking the man in the face. However, at this point he was desperate. He stood as straight as he could, staring eye to eye with the big nation.

"I wish to ask for help," Matthew bellowed as loud as he could. Ivan tilted his head slightly with a puzzled look on his face.

"And what would that be?" The look on the Russian's face sent shivers up Matthew's spine. Ivan's eyes weren't filled with malice as many have said, and he didn't have that dominant aura. His voice was gentle. It all just confused him. "What's wrong, Mathew?"

Matthew shook his head rapidly, "Non, I," he paused, "did you just say my name?"

He chuckled, "Why of course, unless I've heard it wrong all these years."

"All...al...thes..."

"Anyways, what was it that you needed?"

"Oh, um, can I borrow...your key," the Canadian asked nervously, head hung as he whispered.

"Oh, I'm sorry what was that, you're so quite Mathew," Ivan stated, patting the Canadian's head, in return, causing the nation to shake. He always overheard Ivan's subordinates claiming that when said Russian put his hands on you, he was pissed. Matthew's breathe hitched as his heart began to race. He was fearful. "Mathew?"

"Huh, oh um, it's ok if you don't want to, I can just wait until Monday." _But I can't I never come here as early as everyone else. By the time I get here, anyone could read all the shit stashed away from the world. But then again, who am I kidding. People will just learn of the dark side of a nobody but still..._

"Mathew, I am going to let you in, but first you have to tell my why?"

"Why...well you see...

...I left a part of my soul behind..."

~!~!~!~!~!

"...And now, I just, I'm scared Gilbert. Dad has never yelled at me like that! Usually, when I call Papa names, Iggy just tells me that I need to watch what I say. He'd have a bit of irritation in his voice when something like that happened, but he's never looked at me with malice."

The Prussian looked at Alfred with slight sorrow before answering, "But Alfred, you know that no matter what you do, Arthur will never hate you. You are his only son."

"No, I'm not, what about Matthew! He's a big part of this family as much as I am!"

"Then why is he in this world wandering by himself, explain that. And at this point in his life and your's, why do you care about him now?"

Alfred stared Gilbert with a tint of regret shining in his eyes. "Believe me, Gilbert, if I could be the hero that I should have been back then, then none of this would be happening now."

Gilbert looked puzzled, his mouth working slowly to ask another question, when his bird, awesomely named after himself, began chirping a storm. "Ok, OK! I'm feeding you now, _Bei Gott_! You can keep talking if you want, I'm listening."

The platinum blonde stood, practically strutting over to the birdcage and grabbing the birds feed from the bottom cabinet. The bedroom was silent except for the seeds from the feed clicking as they hit the bottom of the tin bowl.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...Alfred...I know you really want to say something now, let it out. For all you know, you may feel better."

"...Ya, you may be right 'bout that." He sighed deeply, breath a bit hitched, "I was just thinking 'bout what might have happened if I stopped Matthew that day..."

Gilbert, at this point, set the feed on the counter top. "What day is that?"

"...The day he left home..."

Silence.

"He ran away," Gilbert asked, back still facing the American.

"No, it was more like...Arthur and I chased him out."

"Wh..."

"This was soon after Papa and Dad got the divorce and Papa couldn't be around us anymore. Iggy kept looking at Matthew and calling him 'Alfred'."

Gilbert looked over his shoulder for a moment to see Alfred grim expression. "So, Arthur mistook Matthew as you? I'm sure it wasn't the reason he left. Believe me Cowboy, first time parents with twins tend to do that."

Alfred shook his head and hung it low. "Maybe sometimes, but not this one. I was never scolded by Iggy, it was always Matthew that took the end of the whip...never me."

Gilbert froze at the American's words. All the time? "Alfred, couldn't you have just pointed out that it was Matthew and then you would get your punishment, and Matthew would be left alone?"

"Ya, I would point it out to him and he would apologize and everything would be fine. But soon after the _accident_..."

"Accident?"

"Ya, soon after that, Dad became very ill..."

~!~!~!~!~!

"So what your telling me is that we have another son, Alfred's twin to be exact?"

"_Si, mon cher_, it's true. His name is Matthew and, he's our other son," Francis explained, rubbing the Brit's wrist with his thumb.

Arthur was shaking violently, trying so had to accept the information being told to him by his ex-husband. He couldn't understand. His head was spinning around it all. He clutched the pillow close to him with greater might as the Frenchman grasped his knuckles, trying to break the tension in Arthur's hand.

"I know it's a lot of information, love, but you 'ave to try and understand what is going on 'ere."

"Why didn't you ever tell me, why? If I knew..."

"You did Arthur, but things changed after the accident."

"The accident!"

"Yes, you remember, _non_? It was seven years ago, but it still feels like it 'appened only yesterday." Francis sighed, shaking his head.

"I remember, but what of it?"

"I think it's about time you know," he turned to Arthur, cupping the Brit's face in his hands. "Look at me the whole time I give you this information, ok?"

"Why in the bloody," Arthur tried pulling away, but he was pulled into another hug by the Frenchman.

"Please, I want to know you understand."

Arthur gave in and nodded. Francis pushed the Brit back and looked into his blue eyes. "Alright then, have you ever heard of _Prosopagnosia_?"

_**Greetings again~!**_

_**Look I know it took me a while, so in return for possibly pissing you viewers off, I will be extending the chapters from now on.**_

_**Thanks for reading and if you want more, you've got it~!**_

_**Please review and JAA NE~!**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Ok, ppl, no stupid stuff today, it's time to get to reading~!**_

_**Enjoy~!**_

"_Prosopagnosia?_ Isn't that just some fancy way of saying 'Face Blindness'?"

"Uh, yeah exactly, but...how did you know that Gil?"

"How?! Well _how _do you think you dumbass! I'm fucking awesome!"

"Ok, ok. But anyway's, I learned this information from Francis when I forced him to tell me."

"And when did you force him," Gilbert had taken his seat on his bed next to the American, who was now lying down. The Prussian sighed, lying with the American.

Alfred could feel the heat in his cheeks as Gilbert snuggled in close, wrapping his arms around his body. "Hey, hey. Gilbert? What are you doing?"

"You probably call it _being_ _gay_, but here in the German states we call it _comforting_. Now shut up, this is my bed. If you don't like it then you can leave..."

"No um, I want to stay...and uhm, thanks."

Gilbert snickered, pulling Alfred in for a gentle kiss. "It's pretty late, how about you stay tonight and you can finish your story, that ok? Besides you look like you need to unwind a bit."

"Ya, that sounds real nice."

~!~!~!~!~!

Matthew's breath was rasped. He was panting and spent as he bent forward over the meeting room table. He grasped onto the table-cloth that was left from the day before and gagged himself by stuffing most of it in his mouth as he felt about ready to scream.

"Relax, _da?_ The pain will fade soon."

Matthew nodded as he turned his head over his shoulder to look eye-to-eye with the Russian towering him from behind. "Relax." Ivan reached forward to pet the Canadians gold locks in a small gesture of comfort. Matthew couldn't help but feel thankful for the Russian's words and the uncharacteristic look of care that dwelled in his eyes. Ivan got on his knee's behind Matthew, getting to work on what was causing the Canadian so much discomfort. The blonde soon felt his body limp as the pain in his lower half settled to a dull sting.

"Ivan?"

"There all done, does that feel any better?" Ivan stood, loosening his grip on the blonde right leg calf. "Let's see if you can stand this time around."

Matthew sat up and turned to the Russian, taking Ivan's hand when it was offered to him. "Th..thanks, Ivan..."

"That's fine. Besides I should be apologizing. I didn't see you behind me when I picked up that two-by-four and turned. I'm just glad I didn't snap your leg in two, I don't know what I would have done. Kukuku," Ivan laughed nervously.

"Why is that stuff in here anyway?"

"Oh, Amer...I mean Alfred, wanted to use that for a project."

Matthew walked closer to the planks and cement blocks in his emo corner. _Great another place I can't relax at..._ "What's the project?"

"Pffft, hell if I know," the Russian shrugged. "I never understand what goes through that guys mind now-a-days. All I know is that he see's war as a game and he'll never grow up."

"Haha, ain't that the truth, by far," Matthew chuckled lightly with a smile, making the Russian smile in return.

"Ku, I'm happy. This is the first time I've seen you smile in a long while Matthew, _da?_"

"Oh, umm..." the Canadian blushed. He turned his head so Ivan wouldn't tease him later for it, but soon drained at seeing the sunset. "Shit! It's already eight! I'm late, Kurugi must be jumping off the walls... I have to get home but..." The blonde trailed off in deep thought.

"If you want," Ivan began, "we can come back tomorrow morning and try to look for it before the meeting starts. We haven't looked everywhere, and if we get here at least around five, that should give us enough time, _da?_"

"Ya...um Ivan..."

"_Da?_"

"As thanks for doing all of this for me, would you like to...uhm...have..." His voice diminished.

"Ah, there you go again with that tiny voice, _da?_ What was that?"

"Dinner!"

"Huh?"

"Would you...um...like to have dinner...at my house?" _I said it, I actually said it!_

"Really? I haven't eaten with company in a long while."

"Well your about to. That is if you say yes?"

The Russian thought on the offer a bit. "_Da_, why not? I'm happy."

"I'm glad," Matthew grinned, at least tonight would be a little more pleasant than others.

~!~!~!~!~!

Alfred groaned, throwing his head back as Gilbert went to digging his thumbs into his sore muscles. The American plastered his face into the Prussian's pillow, muffling his moans.

"Now now, don't do that. Let it out, you will feel so much better if you do."

"But...ah, if I do, I don't know how much control I'll have over my voice."

"What, afraid of me? I'll behave, don't worry. Just let it out. And keep telling me about the accident if you can." Gilbert began to grind his thumbs between Alfred's shoulder blades, grinning as the American cried out.

"Gil..."

"Does that feel good? Tell me where you want me to rub and I'll be happy to."

"Gi...l...," Alfred panted, shivering as the Prussian traveled down his lower back, adding little pressure as he went. Prussia halted his movements and bent over to whisper into the blondes ear.

"What is it you were saying?"

Alfred rolled to his back, looking the ancient German in the eye.

"Gilbert...sorry I...uh...," he gasped. "My pants feel...ugh..."

Gilbert looked down Alfred's waist to notice a bulge at his jean's zipper. The Prussian snickered at the effect his touch had. "Well, your just a bundle of nerves, aren't you? Here, let me help you with that."

~!~!~!~!~!

"So, I have this _Prosopagnosia_," Arthur asked.

"Yes, but the doctor at the time claimed that your case was very light. You don't have trouble with memory or recognizing certain people's faces, do you?"

"No, I've never mistaken anyone, why," Arthur questioned looking at the Frenchman a bit confused of the topic itself.

"The doctor claimed that the main troubles you would have is recognizing people with similar faces like..."

"_Twins_," the Brit interrupted.

"Exactly, now you're getting the picture. He also said that you were already diagnosed with this disease and it was enhanced do to any brain damage you suffered."

"And you were told _all_ of this after the car crash?"

"Yes," Francis answered quietly, knowing the hell Arthur was going to raise for not being told of his own condition.

"So, you knew all of this time and never even told me? Why? We were lovers joined by marriage. Last time I checked, spouses weren't supposed to keep secrets. So, why," Arthur spoke with a sorrowful tone.

"I kept it a secret because I felt that you would be able to figure it out. And the doctor said to let you figure things at your own comfortable speed."

"So that's why you had such a sad look in your face when we looked at the boy's baby pictures, huh? Because every one of them containing Matthew, I mistook for Alfred." He paused, "Does Alfred know?"

"I told him two years ago when the first world meetings began. He begged me as to the whereabouts of little Mattheiu and I just couldn't say no. Did he ever ask you anything?"

"Yes," the dirty blonde looked to his feet. "He used to ask were his brother went. I'd ask if he was talking about Peter and he'd look at me and say, 'No, my twin broth..." The Brit froze, beginning to realize what Alfred was trying to tell over the years. "Oh, Goddamnit! I'm suck a fucking git!" Arthur's rage hit the melting point as he gripped his pillow and threw with great might across the living room. "Dammit..." He covered his face with his hands and began bawling, not caring how shameful he looked.

Francis laid a hand on the Brit's shoulder, pushing him down onto the couch, and pinning him in place. "I'm sorry, Iggy. I'm so sorry..." The Frenchman fell with the petite man, pulling his body close to his. "Iggy..."

"Francis...," Arthur whispered, grasping Francis' shirt and revealing his weakness' to the man as he did so many times before.

~!~!~!~!~!

Alfred and Gilbert lay in the Prussian's bed with nothing but the sheets covering their bare bodies. Gilbert spooned the blonde, wiping the American's bangs from his eyes as he spoke.

"You know at one point, I actually started to think that Matthew was an imaginary friend. I mean, no one knew where in the hell Canada was and that Matthew was the representative. And every time I even brought up my brother, Arthur would just look at me like I was silly. He'd tell me I was just imagining things and that Peter was my only brother. For a while, I did give up on the thought of Matthew. Until..."

"Until?"

Alfred turned in the Prussian's arms, so they were face-to-face. "Until Papa showed me some rare photos of me and Matthew together, you know, until he became so distant and alone."

Gilbert pulled the American's face closer and began kissing ever inch. Alfred started giggling. "Geez, your really affectionate today, Gil. You just usually want to have sex and sleep. What's gotten into you?"

The Prussian pulled away looking at the American's blue eyes. "Dumbass Cowboy! Did it ever occur to you that I actually like your stupid ass?"

"Ya ya, Gil, I know. Come here, this Lone Ranger needs some warmth," Alfred joked, holding his arms out and winking at the platinum blonde.

"_Bei Gott_, you just get cheesier everyday, keskeskeskes," Gilbert chuckled snuggling to the American. "So, when did Francis tell you everything?"

"It was two years ago, on the second meeting to ever to exist. I saw him joking around with Spain, and let's just say I approached him and...left a hell of a hand print."

Gilbert stared wide-eyed, "You slapped your Papa! Really, Alfred?!"

"I was so ignorant then..."

"You mean you still are."

"Shut up!" He cleared his throat and continued. "Anyway, so I pretty much blamed everything on Francis. After everything spiraled, Matthew just felt like he was no longer needed. The second he turned 18, he went out the front door, never to be seen until six years after the first world meeting. So ya, Francis being so important to Matthew at the beginning until Arthur won custody, I felt he was the only one to blame. I never once thought I could be at fault as much as Dad and Papa, but..."

"So, he told you everything and told you to never tell Arthur, right?"

"Gil, do you think Dad's ever going to forgive me for keeping such a thing away from him?"

"Na, you'll be fine. I'll bet you that Francis is explaining everything right now and will clear any misunderstandings with Arthur. Your Papa knows how to deal with Arthur more than anyone, you just have to trust him. Think you can do that?"

"_Ja_," the Alfred said in a rough German accent. "But just this once," he paused. "Hey Gil...I don't think they should have broken up. They were one of the most happiest couples I'd ever seen. Why did things have to change so dramatically?"

Gilbert sighed, "I don't know Alfred...

...I just don't know..."


End file.
